


Nervousness

by destroyallmonsters



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, bottom ivan is love bottom ivan is life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:50:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destroyallmonsters/pseuds/destroyallmonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Ivan's first time having sex with another man, and Nalin is at the helm. Naturally, Ivan's a bit too much of a worry-wart about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nervousness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sammya (exprincesssammya)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sammya+%28exprincesssammya%29).



> A short birthday fic (drabble?) for Sammya! I wrote this in like 45 minutes so it's a bit sloppy and PWP. Oh, hell. It's fully PWP.
> 
> Nalin Roy is Sammya and I's headcanon human name for APH India.
> 
> Hetalia doesn't belong to me, yadda yadda yadda.

A heavy scent lingers in the air, humid and acrid, but there is no detection of hunger, nor need, nor desperation. The scent hangs low.

Ivan squirms a bit. The pillows are downy, the sheets silk-soft but he can't seem to get comfortable. It's extremely difficult for him to breathe and his clothes grate on his skin. His violet eyes are bright, yet his expression is practically unreadable.

"Are you alright?" Nalin's matter-of-fact tone hitched in a query. He draws the back of his hand across Ivan's flushed cheek--usually pale as snow itself--and shifts his smaller body off of the larger one beneath him; Nalin settles to Ivan's side, a concerned furrow of his brow crinkling his face. "It's normal to be nervous."

Ivan doesn't want to admit it for the sake of his own embarrassment, but that's precisely what he's feeling at the moment: anxiety. Nervousness. He's afraid of the pain that will clutch his lower half, and he's afraid of scaring Nalin off with that. He gulps shakily, then opens his mouth.

"I'm-I'm-I'm not nervous."

It takes a moment, but Nalin responds with a sputtering chuckle. "Why must you bullshit me so?"

The Russian man sits up, the muscles rippling underneath his tight shirt. "What do you mean?"

"You are nervous. It's so obvious I can bloody _smell_ it on you, for God's sakes." He lays back down next to Ivan, gently stroking the other's chest. "You don't have to be, jaan. It's not as painful as people say it is."

"Then why do they _say_ it's painful?"

What a piece of work--Nalin stifles the rubbing of his temples. The boy is giving him a headache at this point. "You're the one who wanted to make love in the first place. It's a bit pointless to get each other in the mood then call it quits because one of us is a little scared, isn't it?"

Ivan looks a bit hurt, but he nods. Apologetically Nalin kisses him on the lips, fluttering his lashes whilst making eye contact with that stunning purple gaze. "I didn't mean to offend... you know I love you, mein priya."

At that point Ivan melts, surrendering to his older and more experienced lover. "I love you, too," he murmurs, and almost predicting Nalin's comment pulls his shirt off his broad shoulders. He's ashamed of his weight, but Nalin is delighted by it; Ivan is soft to lay upon, like a warm pillow of sorts. The elder Indian smiles, and in turn gracefully slides his bejeweled top off. The heated air thickens, and their lips meet, savoring the lack of breath.

Nalin gently pushes Ivan back down onto the bed, tugging at the other's slacks with just enough urgency to give Ivan chills. The Russian's large, bold hands slide up and down Nalin's back, and it makes Nalin shiver in delight; it distracts him from the momentum and Ivan has to freeze his hands in place to get his lover to continue. Cheeky bastard, Nalin growls in his head, and with great haste he pulls Ivan's pants and undergarments off his hips, revealing a rather large member. Nalin clenches his teeth as to not gasp; he hopes to God Ivan is proud of that thing.

Ivan's face flushes once more, and in retaliation, reaches his hands down and pushes Nalin's bottoms off as well. He grabs Nalin's ass and pushes him forward, making their cocks grind together, and the two shudder.

"Nalin," Ivan groans in higher pitch than usual, signifying his need. Nalin makes haste and grabs the bottle of lubricant from the nightstand. He lathers his finger in the slimy substance and pushes Ivan's legs upward, his own face turning a shade redder upon seeing Ivan's tight entrance. He wants in, right then, but he grits his teeth in forced patience and delicately slides his finger in. Ivan is tight, no surprise there. The conservative Russian obviously didn't experiment much beforehand, and that is also evident from the way his body clinches, suffocating Nalin's finger, and the sharp gasp that escape Ivan's mouth.

"S-sorry," Ivan utters, and tries to relax his tense muscles while Nalin prepares him. The Indian man grunts in acknowledgment and sticks another finger inside, stretching and scissoring, with great skill as to not make Ivan yipe in sudden pain. A good few minutes of this seems to satisfy Nalin, and his slides his fingers out; he covers his length in a condom, allowing Ivan's legs to spread in preparation.

Nalin gently nuzzles his partner. "You ready?"

The man underneath him gulps, but gives an earnest nod. "Yes."

And with that, Nalin slowly pushes into Ivan, a moan curdling in his throat. His lover's tightness is a delight, making his toes curl, and he hesitates not to thrust on instinct, letting Ivan get used to him.

"Oh, Nalin," Ivan yelps, fighting the urge to let himself tense up again. There is indeed pain, but his partner's loving grasp on his torso and the waft of desire in the air far surpasses it. He wants the pleasure to circumpass his body already, and grabs a hold of the back of Nalin's head to push the two into another kiss.

Nalin takes this as the signal to begin thrusting, and praises his gods as he begins doing so. "Ivan, Ivan..." Indeed, not even the skilled lover himself can keep quiet as he pushes in and out of the tight orifice, giving Ivan's pale body a firm squeeze. The Russian's light grunts begin to evolve into high-pitched, vocal gasps; the lovemaking is going better than Nalin had predicted. His naturally pessimistic attitude had once again been deemed moot by reality.

"Nalin, bite me," Ivan mutters in between moans. The Indian creases his brow in surprise--he wasn't aware that when the beast of desire was awoken, Ivan would suddenly be so abrasive. Nonetheless, he obliges, leaving puffy red marks all across Ivan's neck and shoulders, licking and tugging at the skin with his teeth, thrusting deeper as a result. His cock must have hit Ivan's sweet spot, as the larger man's back arches and he groans louder. "Harder," Ivan commands him. The boy is awfully demanding in bed, Nalin comes to realize.

The thrusts that follow are rhythmic, with Nalin honing all his skills that he'd been taught by those he'd bedded in the past, hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. He thinks nothing of the outside environment, and while the sex is so pleasurable he can't seem to keep himself quiet, he tunes in on the husky yelps that escape Ivan's parted mouth as he surges deeper and deeper still. Beyond the two of them, and the utterly sexy sounds of the bedsheets shuffling and the mattress creaking, there is pure silence. And as Nalin gives in to each and every one of Ivan's desires, the two of them edge towards climax, as it's even evident in the way Nalin grunts and groans louder and louder. Neither of them break the momentum; in fact, they embrace it. Nalin takes a hand and begins to stroke Ivan's pulsating cock, and before either of them know it Ivan screams and cums, deep and wet and messy, in his lover's hand and all over his stomach, convulsing as he rides his orgasm out. This brings Nalin over the edge and releases into the condom with a long moan.

Nalin collapses onto Ivan as soon as he pulls out and throws the used condom in the trash, but this doesn't faze the larger and sturdier man beneath him.

"You didn't have to stress so much, darling." Nalin nuzzles Ivan again with his nose. "I can tell you liked that just as much as I did."

Ivan blushes and turns away, giggling a bit. "I'm kind of a worry-wart."

"I can bloody tell that, too, sheesh."

They have a laugh--a rather exhausted one at that--and Nalin curls up on top of his lover, shutting his eyes while listening to Ivan's steady heart beat. The Indian lets out a sound akin to a purr; Ivan runs a hand through Nalin's dark hair as the two settle into bed. Nalin smiles: Ivan really does feel like a pillow! The two enjoy the comfortable silence that ensues; that has always been a staple of their relationship. They understand that neither of them are heavy talkers, and enjoy the quiet.

"Hey, Nalin?"

The silence is interrupted, and with a twinge Nalin opens an eye. "Yes?"

Ivan wriggles, obviously embarrassed by his query. "You wouldn't mind if I... topped next time, nyet?"

Nalin almost wants to burst out laughing. "Of course, dear. Now, be quiet for a bit, eh? I'm going to have a rest."

And with that, the silence continues, this time uninterrupted.


End file.
